I want to see you game, boys
by sing-oldsongs
Summary: "I want to see you game, boys. I want to see you brave and manly, but I also want to see you gentle and tender." Teddy Roosevelt. Or: James Potter and his speeches. Marauders Era. Sirius x Remus.
A/N: Written in April 2008 for prompt number 3, the Teddy Roosevelt quote in the summary, at the barefootboys community on livejournal.

 **x**

"Boys, we're going out there soon."

James Potter isn't the captain of the Quidditch team yet but he acts as if he were. He paces up and down with his arms crossed against his chest, throws them free for a few grand gestures.

"It's going to be tough. They're a good team."

Sirius pokes Kingsley in the ribs and leans his head toward James and rolls his eyes. He's so serious right?! Kingsley doesn't respond—he isn't the type to joke, anyway.

"In fact, they even beat us last time! I know: they beat _us_! The Gryffindors! We can't let that happen again! We need to play like we've never played before."

Sirius just wants to fly. When he can feel the wind whip back his hair, yank at his clothes, when he can see the waving banners in the crowds but barely hear the yelling and the screaming, when he's too caught up in the very _height_ of things even to see who's winning—oh but he feels free. He tries to tell Remus, later, catching at his sleeves, pulling him around, wishing they could both fly even with the ground beneath their feet, but Remus doesn't understand. He asks Sirius why he plays the game at all if flying is all he cares about. He tells him they'll go flying together, some day, without that loud announcer voice, those Bludgers in the air, the distraction of competition. They will be eaten by the clouds.

Remus's eyes gleam when he makes plans like these: transitory, fleeting plans, a million possible lives for them that he spins out in words. This is why Sirius wants to do this for him. It's why he wants James to hurry up. He wants to try the spell _now._

"We've never done magic like this before. Just think—we're probably the youngest people to do this ever."

He wants to feel fur grow over his skin just like it grows over Remus's. He wants to twitch his ears, swish his tail. He wants to bark, wants to _howl_.

"And of course we all know the risks," James is saying. "Risks—" he doesn't know what he's saying, just wants it to sound good—"risks we don't _care_ about, of course, because we're Marauders!"

Sirius has never seen a wolf before. He can only imagine the points of its nails, the ripple of its muscles. How soft, if one could touch, its fur would be.

"Marauders who are brave, who take risks for their friends, who put friends above everything else—"

He's stalling. James has grand notions. This is a grand notion for him. But Sirius wants to feel the earth beneath the pads of his feet. He wants to ask Remus what he feels like. When he's the wolf. He told him that he knew he had a secret but if he wasn't going to tell, Sirius wouldn't tell either. He said it was a promise, but Remus looked at him, a fearful stare, and chocked out _you don't know what you're talking about_ and left the room.

Sirius wants to tell James to shut up.

It's so cold here. Remus puts an arm around his shoulder, and Sirius wants to run, because he knows people can see him shivering now.

"They beat us last time," James is saying. "They won't this time."

He's grown up. He stands straight; he keeps his hair out of his eyes; he walks with a purpose to his steps. Sirius feels thin, feels small. He realizes Remus's hand is shaking.

"We're going out there as Order members: strong, skilled, dedicated—fighting for the best cause there is."

He looks at Lily now, for a second. It's just a shift of his eyes but Sirius sees it. His wife. For three weeks now, his wife. Lily's face has the same determined lines that James's has. Remus's face has the premature lines of age, and Sirius's, of a broken aristocracy. He wrote to his mother last week and when she answered him she said that if he got himself killed it would be his own fault.

"I won't lie to you. The stakes are high. If we lose this war—"

Sirius reaches up and wraps his fingers with Remus's, where they are hanging over his shoulder. The contact is short and it isn't enough, nothing would be enough, but he's trying to say—

"If we lose this war we lose everything."

If I could, I would fly up into the clouds with you until we drown in the stars.


End file.
